Nikola realized something was wrong with Timmy when he saw the very dead-looking squirrel dancing for the boy.
Soon after, he went out of the door and towards where he could sense Bleda. If the baby was a necromancer, then they needed the advice of a necromancer.
Even if Bleda was about as concerned with them all as someone who didn't really want to be bothered.
Bleda was sitting under a tree, reading a book. Nikola could have had some choice words about the man's job duties, but at that moment Timmy was more important.
"Bleda, what does it mean if a baby plays with carcasses?" Nikola was truly out of it, to start off with his question, and not say a greeting.
Bleda was going to let him have it, but then he noted how worried Nikola looked.
"Congratulations, it's a necromancer!" Bleda replied dryly. "Expect for the boy or girl to bring forth its first plague by the end of the month!"
Nikola took a deep breath.
"Just kidding," Bleda told him, as he stood up. "The baby might bring its first plague right after you send it to bed without a dessert. May I see the little guy?"
Nikola nodded.
"Sorry, it is just… the boy was a case of coffin birth," Nikola said, as he began to lead the way back to the cabin. "And I have no idea what to do with him."
"Coffin birth?" There was something urgent in Bleda's voice. The man sprinted pass Nikola and entered the cabin so, as if someone had told him that there was an Archdemon on the loose in there.
"Bleda? Haven't you heard about knocking?" Nikola could hear Dimitri say from inside.
Only to hear a maniacal laughter next.
The brunette rushed inside the cabin.
The furniture was floating.
"Hey, it's ok, little one! Uncle Bleda will never hurt you!" Bleda had a wide grin on his face.
A plate sailed past his head. He had to duck to avoid it.
"Timmy!" Nikola exclaimed. The baby let out another scream, and a plate sailed past Dimitri next, followed by one for Nikola's head.
"He is a necromancer, alright!" Bleda said with pure joy in his voice. "And I want to train him!"
"He doesn't like you!" Dimitri bit back, as he tried to keep all the plates in the cabinet. He was holding the doors with all of his strength.
Something pushed him to the side, the cabinets slung open.
Butter knives began to fly in all directions.
"Timmy!" Nikola had had enough. "Stop that, or I will put you in an animal onesie! You will never be able to live the shame of that one down! I will make pictures, I swear!"
Timmy looked so, as if he were considering his options. The baby finally let out a huff.
The cutlery returned to their places.
"Oh, you were born to be a father, Niki!" Bleda exclaimed, as he made a couple of steps to the crib. "But this one is strong! Where did you find him?"
Nikola looked at Dimitri, who scratched himself behind the head.
"We were looking for meat for Jack. Timmy was in a fresh grave, still inside his mother's womb. When he kicked against me, I tore him out of there."
Bleda let out a low whistle.
"No wonder he is this powerful! Death has already collected him and turned him into one of his!"
"He is just a baby," Nikola insisted, as he took Timmy out of his crib and held him close to his chest. The baby let out a muffled grumble, but it let itself be hugged.
Bleda was soon by Nikola's side and offering his arms to hold the baby.
"You wish to train him, how?" Nikola didn't know the first thing about necromancers. But if Timmy had to bathe in chicken blood for rituals before he was even done teething, Nikola was simply going to put his foot down and stop it.
"Well, he is too young to be trained now. He is what? One day, old?" Bleda asked, as he laid a hand over the baby's head. Petting the child gently.
"And already a war hound," Dimitri said, as he took a broom to sweep the broken plates off the floor. "But enough about that! If you are going to teach him, then do so!"
"Timmy is no war hound!" Nikola protested, as he kissed the child on the head. "He is just scared! Bleda is an experienced and strong necromancer. Timmy is someone who lets dead squirrels dance for him!"
Bleda chuckled.
"You know, I will take that as a compliment," the man said, as he continued to pet the baby. "There are a couple of things you should know. He is not a necromancer who became so from a ritual. He is a born again necromancer. A natural."
Nikola sighed. He just hoped that Timmy wouldn't need blood to function.
"For starters, he will need more time to sleep per day than a normal baby. His body is growing, but he is actually dead," that sent a chill down Nikola's spine.
What did that mean for him? How was he going to take the core of a zombie?
"He will need human flesh once per year, just like a ghoul," Bleda continued, as he gently tugged Timmy's ear. The baby grumbled, but the plates remained in the cabinet. "Not to mention that he will grow slower than normal children."
"Slower?" Nikola asked. "How much slower?"
Will he be changing diapers for five years, instead of just two?
He shuddered.
How was he going to explain why his child grew so slowly to the social workers?
When was he going to send Timmy off to school?
"When he reaches 30, he will have the face of an 18-year-old! With white hair, true, but people will be asking him for his ID for a very long time. I suggest you avoid sending him off for alcohol or cigarettes. You might end up behind bars."
Nikola nodded.
Then he smiled.
"Bleda, and how are we to adopt him official?" He asked.
The man took out his phone.
"Not with the humans. You need the necromantic union. Here's the number."
Nikola placed Timmy back in his crib and then noted the number in his phone.
Timmy let out a giggle.
Nikola figured that the boy was well aware of just how much trouble he was getting them into.